1. One Stormy Night
Thanks to Lady Legrace for beta reading.
A brief flash of lighting, followed by the ear-shattering burst of thunder, and soon, the pitter-patter of raindrops could be heard atop the wooden roof of the simple hut. He had always found the sound of rain soothing, for it reminded him of the times when his Ammë would hold him close and whisper soft reassuring words in his ears. She would tell him that he should rejoice in rain, for the clean, clear drops of rain washed away all that was unclean and uncouth. She would tell him that the drops of rain ran down the great lands of Middle Earth to the vast oceans of Ulmo, Lord of Waters, and brought to the noble Vala news and wishes of the Eruhini. His mother would tell him to speak to the rain, to sing to the sea, and know that if Ulmo willed it, his thoughts would reach even his father, who was fated to sail strange paths for the good of the kindred of Elves and Men.
Another flash of lightening, another roll of thunder and Elros’s nerves could take no more. Throwing away his cover, he sat up, surveying the room. Near the window, across the room, was placed the bed of Elrond. His twin was gazing out of the window, clutching the blanket around him protectively. Elros saw him tremble when next roar of thunder sounded. Through their bond as twins, Elros knew that Elrond wanted to do just what he was about to but… but his brother still felt the need to be cool and aloof towards the only father either of them was likely to know now. Elros hopped out of bed, he was not his brother and he wanted Maglor to hold him close and sing him a song in that mighty voice of his that sounded like the roaring of the sea during a fierce tempest but gentle and soothing like a warm blanket on a Midwinter morn.
With quick small steps, Elros went into the smaller of the remaining two rooms of the hut. Tentatively, he approached the large bed, not wanting to wake Maglor with a start, but when he reached the bed he found it empty. Frantically, he searched the remainder of the small hut that was their home, but to no avail. Maglor was nowhere to be found.
“NO!” he cried. “No not him, too.”
“Not him what?” demanded Elrond, who had decided to join his brother and Maglor when Elros’s anguished cry hit the very core of his soul.
“Ada Maglor,” said Elros, by now beginning to sniffle and sob, “I can’t find him anywhere. His bed is empty and his riding cloak and boots are gone. He…” He began to hug his little trembling body tightly. “He has left us, too.” He finally sobbed out.
“No!” said Elrond firmly, “He wouldn’t do that.” He said with some conviction but the seed of doubt was not lost on Elros. “He wouldn’t leave us alone. Not him. He wouldn’t, he just wouldn’t,” he assured his brother.
“But he did!” cried Elros, “He left us… just like Ammë and Ada,” he whispered softly.
Elrond walked over to his twin, despite his own words, tears were leaking out his eyes and doubt gnawing at his heart. He drew his little brother into his arms and held him tight. “Don’t worry, my muindor. We still have each other,” he whispered, “We still have each other.”
So Elros and Elrond sat on the floor of the main room of their little hut, silently sobbing and wishing for their foster father. Suddenly the sound of horses could be heard between the rumblings of the ever-present thunder. The boys stiffened; hope beginning to rear its head in their hearts despite themselves.
“Come, Maitimo,” they heard the lyrical voice of Maglor say. “You need to rest.”
“Rest?” they heard a voice, that reminded them of broken things, say. “There is no rest for me. There will never be any rest for me.”
“Don’t say that!” cried Maglor. “Please Maitimo, don’t say that,” he repeated as he threw open the door of the hut and led his brother inside.
The breathtaking beauty of Maedhros the tall, even when marred by years of suffering, did not fail to awe the two little Half-elves, but the sight of his features also did not fail to fill the twins with fear, for they remembered how he had only consented to take them in so that he could use them as hostages. Awe, fear, and all such emotions soon fled when Maglor looked at them and asked, “What are the two of you doing here?”
Without warning Maglor found himself flat on the ground with two trembling elflings in his arms, “Please don’t leave us!” cried Elros. “Please, Ada Maglor, don’t leave us all alone. We need you.”
“Leave you?” asked Maglor in disbelief, “I would never dream of it.” He drew them into a tight embrace, “Why would you think something like that?” he wondered.
“Because we went to your room and your weren’t there,” Elros explained. “And we couldn’t find you and… and…”
Elros started sniffling. Just thinking about that black moment when he thought he had once again been abandoned scared him and all he could do was grip Maglor’s tunic harder in an attempt to ensure that Maglor at least wasn’t going to live him. Elrond said nothing but his grip tightened as well.
Maglor smiled a soft smile, “Worry not, little ones, I will not leave you.” Not yet anyway, he added to himself.
It took over an hour for Maglor to get the boys back to sleep. When he returned to the main room of the hut, he realised he still had another charge to tuck into the bed and sing to till he fell asleep. The only problem was that Maitimo, unlike Elros and Elrond, could not sleep the sleep of the righteous, so he was more than a little reluctant to sleep, for to sleep meant to dream of the black walls of Angband and the chilly heights of Thangorodrim, not to mention the elf who loved him so much that he braved both and defied the Dark Lord himself.
Suddenly Maitimo smiled. “Ah, my dear songbird brother, fatherhood truly suits you.” He whispered, “Forgive me for not being as obedient a son as Elrond and Elros.”
“Fatherhood does suit me,” agreed Maglor, his face a blank mask. “Yet, my brother, your problem has always been too much obedience.”
Ammë = mother
Ada = father
Muindor = brother
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.